


Bedrooms

by ASwornStark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Oral Sex, Riding, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8826394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASwornStark/pseuds/ASwornStark
Summary: Every time she came over, Myrcella was more nervous she’d get caught by someone for wanting, of all the boys in the world, the eldest of the Stark children. Chapter 1 is all fluff and some build-up. When chapter 2 comes...I may be in hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked about Robbcella and I'm giving it a shot. Be gentle with me (the way Robb would be gentle with Myrcella!)
> 
> Everyone is the same age difference apart except Rickon, who's MUCH younger than he was before. He's about 8 in this fic. Robb is 26 and Myrcella is 20.

Arya was her best friend. It was wrong of her to want this—to want _him_. She was supposed to be babysitting Rickon, not staring at _him_ while he did his homework. The worst part was Arya always knew she was weird around her house. She _knew_ her best friend was lusting over someone.

 

Myrcella had been lucky enough to convince Arya that it was Theon. The guy was always around anyway, it wasn’t hard. Arya didn’t mind that. She admitted it wasn't strange to her that Myrcella would like him, he wasn’t ugly or anything. So Myrcella breathed a sigh of relief for the next four years.

 

And then Theon left and it got harder. Arya’d told her that he was going home to spend time with his sister, and since then, he’d not been back except for a few visits. Arya was always eyeing her, wondering what on earth her friend could be tense about when her crush wasn’t in the picture anymore. Every time she came over, Myrcella was more nervous she’d get caught by _someone_ for wanting, of all the boys in the world, the eldest of the Stark children.

 

“Cella?” Rickon said, trying to get her attention for the third time of the night.

 

“Yeah, Rickon, sorry.” She kissed the top of his head absently as she surveyed the bowl of cake batter in front of the youngest Stark boy. “It looks good, love. You want to taste it?”

 

She smiled and wiped the corner of his mouth once he’d tasted the chocolate batter, glancing at Robb and noticing his head turn abruptly back to his work.

 

“Robb?” she called, “Do you want to taste the batter?” Myrcella noted the red patches on his neck that the Stark boys got when they were embarrassed.

 

“Yeah, Ricks, bring it over here for a second.”

 

She busied herself with finding the cake pans while Rickon marched proudly over to his brother. She heard Robb make an impressed noise and it made her smile stupidly. Rickon returned beaming and Myrcella poured the batter before they each held the pan with one hand as they placed it in the oven together, Rickon protected with a big oven mitt.

 

She told him to wash up as she dusted her hands on her jeans. Sighing, she slid her books from her bag and heard Rickon in the den, turning the TV on. Catelyn wouldn’t love it, but she knew Myrcella had a paper due, same as Arya. She worked slowly, stopping gratefully to take the cake out before it burned. Her eyes were tired from all her notes when Robb came in to grab a drink.

 

“Hey,” he said.

 

She turned to him and smiled. She didn’t mean to look him over—she _didn’t—_ but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t know what it was with the Starks and gray, but Robb’s shirt was…well it was…fuck.

 

“What are you working on?” she asked, cracking her knuckles to alleviate some pain and out of nervous habit.

 

“Nothing really,” he shrugged, “I’ve got a paper due in a week and I thought I’d start early but I keep getting distracted. You?”

 

“I’ve got one for the middle of the week.”

 

He grimaced on her behalf, making her breathe a laugh and pray her cheeks weren’t too red. He turned back to the fridge and walked over with a beer. “Here.”

 

“I’m not drinking while I babysit!”

 

He laughed, “One drink with me, Cella. I swear it’ll only be the one.”

 

She scoffed, “You know I’m awful with alcohol.”

 

“I don’t know how,” Robb smirked, “You’re equal parts Lannister and Baratheon. If anyone should be getting drunk it’s me.”

 

She blushed, contemplating the drink. If Catelyn found out, she was quite sure nothing could save her. But the offer was tempting when it was from Robb—any offer would have been tempting.

 

“Look, if you clock out, I’ll still be good enough to look after my brother. So, you can either sit here sober, or have a drink with me.” He waved the bottle in her face.

 

“You know, your mother thinks Arya’s a bad influence on me,” Myrcella said, snatching the bottle from Robb’s hand, “I don’t think she thought _you’d_ be a bad influence on me.”

 

He snorted, not answering and waiting for her to open the bottle so they could tap bottles like idiots and take a swig at the same time. He laughed when she coughed, patting her on the back. She felt herself grow hot when she realized his hand was still there even after she stopped.

 

“You _are_ awful at drinking,” Robb snickered, looking delighted

 

“Yeah, well,” Myrcella rolled her eyes playfully, “I warned you.”

 

“It’s good. I never get to be the best in the room. Theon holds his too well and that’s much less fun.”

 

They sat together in a wary state of comfort, talking quietly about school. Robb was almost ready to graduate.

 

“Doctor Robb Stark, that’s cute,” Myrcella said teasingly.

 

“Yeah, and Doctor Myrcella in six years,” he snorted.

 

“God,” she groaned, “is it really six years? Sometimes I forget.”

 

“They go by,” Robb murmured, touching her hand lightly before he seemed to think better of it, “You’ll like it in the end. You’d make a good doctor.”

 

“I’ve been in school for two years and I already think about working for my uncle every damned day.”

 

“Nah, you’ll do well. You’ve always been dedicated—but maybe call your uncle about Arya.”

 

She coughed a laugh. “You’re an awful big brother!”

 

“Where is she anyway?”

 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You really _are_ an awful brother, aren’t you? Do you know where _any_ of your siblings are tonight Robb?”

 

“I know Jon is screwing Ygritte into a mattress that probably isn’t either of theirs right about now. That count?”

 

“Robb!” Myrcella gasped. He was red faced from laughter at her indignation. “You’re an idiot.”

 

“I’m the right kind of idiot though, aren’t I Myrcella?”

 

She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes, feeling her body turn to fire under his gaze. He was too fucking pretty and she was too nervous. And the way her name sounded on his lips did things to her that made her worry about her place in heaven.

 

“Cella?” Rickon walked into the kitchen as Robb snatched the bottles from the table and hid them behind his back. “Did you frost the cake already?”

 

Myrcella smiled and ruffled his curls that looked much like his brother’s, “No, love, of course not. Not without you.” She bit her lip when she glanced at her textbooks but made to close them anyway. She could work on it tomorrow, she supposed.

 

“Ricks,” Robb cut in, noticing her look immediately, “you mind if I help you? Cella’s got homework to finish.”

 

She was almost jealous when Rickon happily accepted. Both of Robb, who would get to take a break from his work to spend time with little Rickon, and of Rickon, who would get Robb’s company. Robb said she could go up to his room and study, proclaiming Arya’s room to be a mess. Myrcella had expected that, as Arya and Sansa were supposed to be at one of the fraternity parties she hated. She walked past her best friend’s room and pushed the door open to Robb’s.

 

The room was painted black—literally black. She drew in a breath as she glanced around. There was a stack of neatly folded laundry at the foot of his bed that she transferred to the dresser so she could stretch out across it and work. She’d have taken the desk but papers were strewn across it and she didn’t want to lose anything of his. The place was neat, save for the desk, and smelled exactly like him, musky and like cinnamon. She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to open her books and start working before she panicked about being there.

 

There was something about Robb’s room that made it easier to do her work somehow. She was always getting distracted when she studied in Arya’s room, not that Arya troubled her much—she fell asleep often. Myrcella couldn’t blame her for any lack of concentration. Maybe it was that she felt like she was in another world. She felt almost…detached from anything else. It helped, miraculously.

 

Myrcella finished far more than she expected before she noticed the time and realized she’d forgotten to take Rickon to his room to tuck him in. She rose from the bed, rubbing her eyes as she moved down the hall towards the stairs. She stopped when she realized the light was on in the bathroom to her left—Robb must have taken mercy on her.

 

She went to knock on the door and tell Robb she could take it from there, but then Rickon was talking and Myrcella almost collapsed with what he said.

 

“Do you like Cella, Robb?”

 

_Oh, my Gods._

“Rickon…”

 

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

 

“Yes, Ricks, she is.”

 

“And you like her?”

 

“I think she’s…very special.”

 

“Does that mean you want to…to sleep with her?”

 

She clapped a hand to her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

 

“Where’d you learn that, Rickon?” Robb asked him, softer now.

 

“I heard Jon talking to Bran about Meera…or Jojen…one of the Reeds anyway.”

 

“Well, I don’t think you were meant to hear that, do you?”

 

Myrcella heard Rickon sigh, “I guess not.”

 

“And you won’t repeat that ever again, will you?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Good.”

 

She heard the whir of his electric toothbrush and waited until it stopped before she knocked on the door loudly. Robb answered it and she forced a smile, willing herself not to get red all over. She seemed more in luck than him as he stared at her, almost like he was _surprised_ that the only other person in the house with them was knocking on the bathroom door.

 

“Rickon, are you ready for bed?”

 

“I thought you’d be working,” Robb said quietly, clearly trying to seem calm. It almost made her laugh that for once, she wasn’t the one feeling bothered by _his_ presence.

 

“I got a lot done, actually. Thank you. Your room’s a good place to work.”

 

“Yeah? That’s good then.” He scratched the back of his neck and nodded. “If you, er, need a place to study then, you can come up whenever.”

 

She flushed at that, turning her gaze to Rickon who shot his brother a knowing look. The little Stark took her by the hand and pulled her along to his room so she could kiss him goodnight and pull the covers up to his shoulders. She remembered him feeling sad that it was her and not Catelyn to be the last face he saw, but he’d grown used to her over the year after Catelyn’s job started to pick up. Myrcella turned the nightlight on before she shut the door behind her, whispering a goodbye.

 

She walked up the hallway again to find Robb sitting at his desk, her books where she’d left them across his bed. “Sorry,” she murmured, “I should have cleaned up.”

 

“That’s okay.” He waved a hand at her absently. “You should stay here until Arya and Sansa get home. I may need another sober person on my team. That is, if you’re still sober after that—”

 

“I took two swallows of that beer. How much of a lightweight do you think I am?”

 

She sighed when she saw his shoulders shaking and she resumed her position on his bed. It ought to be weirder that she was in Robb’s bedroom _with_ Robb. It wasn't. She liked it if she was honest. Somehow, knowing Robb didn’t mind her there made her bolder.

 

“You never answered before,” she said offhandedly, biting her nail as she flipped a page of her textbook.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

 

“And what if I did?”

 

Her head snapped up, eyes wide as she stared at his back. He had to be joking—but he wasn’t laughing. He swiveled slowly in his chair to face her, hands on his knees and slouched like he was nervous. Fuck, he was gorgeous. She inhaled, telling herself to be cool.

 

Her eyes travelled down the length of him and back up, as if she needed to inspect what she was thinking about purchasing before she decided if she wanted it. She tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips.

 

“I _think_ I’d let you.”

 

Robb’s jaw dropped. She felt excited about that. His eyes were scanning her face, maybe to decide if she was serious, or maybe to decide if she was just drunk. He wiped his palms along his jeans awkwardly before rising from his chair and walking over to her.

 

She didn’t dare breathe as he settled on the floor, face level with hers. She was holding a textbook page in midair but she didn’t give a damn.

 

“Are you serious?” he asked.

 

She groaned, feeling a sense of relief that maybe she wasn’t as obvious as she thought all the time, “You didn’t know?”

 

“No. I thought you’d think I was…er…old.”

 

Myrcella couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You’re not. Six years is nothing. Especially when you look like _that.”_

 

“Ah,” Robb said, looking embarrassed but pleased nonetheless.

 

“And…and you liked me?”

 

“I didn’t see you much during your last few years of high school until we came to your graduation. I sort of…well around then I…”

 

“Right.”

 

“God, Arya would kill me for this.”

 

Myrcella was about to ask _what_ she would kill him for but suddenly she knew. She knew _all too well_ as he cupped her face with one hand and stroked her cheekbone lightly. She bridged the gap, pressing her lips against his and feeling his hand shake against her skin. His lips were soft and she felt the scruff of his beard scratch her chin. She couldn’t say she minded. They parted after a few moments, blinking at each other. Myrcella bit her lip and curled her hair behind her ear, feeling strange under his gaze.

 

“We should go downstairs and wait for your sisters.”

 

Robb nodded, breathing heavily as they exited the room together and made for the stairs. Myrcella stopped to listen at Rickon’s door and make sure he was sleeping before they went down together. The front door slammed open and a very drunk pair of girls walked through the door as Robb and Myrcella reached the halfway point. Bran trailed behind them, holding Arya’s jacket and looking at Robb pleadingly.

 

“They called me and asked me to drive them home. Meera’s in the car and—”

 

“We’ve got them Bran,” Myrcella said, descending the last few steps quickly and grabbing Arya’s jacket from his hand and smoothing his hair down. “Go have fun.”

 

Robb grabbed Arya under the arms and started to haul her up the stairs. Sansa was slightly more stable when drunk, so Myrcella only needed to wrap a hand around her waist and assist her up to the second floor. She pulled out a shirt for Sansa to wear and left in on her bed before going into Arya’s room as Robb exited. She was more instrumental in Arya’s change, getting more of a view than she liked as she helped her get comfortable.

 

She joined Robb on the couch once Arya was settled in.

 

“Thanks for babysitting my family, Cella.”

 

“Yeah,” she said, “you can repay me by not telling Arya what happened just now.”

 

Robb faced her abruptly, looking like he’d been kicked. He seemed even more confused when he noticed her smirk.

 

“Look,” she said, “I’m still planning on fucking you tomorrow night in the back of my car. I just need you to promise me that Arya won’t _know_ that I’m fucking you back there. Okay? Just not…yet.”

 

And Robb perfectly understood that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I finished this so fast but take it away from me before I end up in hell.

She’d said the back of her car and she meant it. The only problem was that Robb was…well… _Robb._ She didn't know how the idiot fit anywhere.

 

“This is ridiculous,” Myrcella gasped, drawing her mouth away from his as she tried to extricate her arm from beneath his shoulder. She knew if she was growing numb, he must be too. He didn’t answer her except for a moan and she remembered that her hand was still on his cock. He bucked up against her, trying to coax her back into what she was doing. Her hand stayed still against him, leaving him frustrated. “You know who would’ve fit back here? Theon.”

 

Robb laughed, head resting crookedly against the left-side door. It was true. Greyjoy had a swimmer’s body and Robb was more…like a truck. She sat up slowly on his thighs, careful not to slam her head on the roof as she’d done a half hour earlier. She glanced out the window, checking to make sure no one was around. They'd come to a quiet stretch that the kids in high school used to make out at night. It ensured that Myrcella and Robb got the privacy they needed. She only wished her car was bigger.

 

“You want to go to my place?” Robb asked lightly.

 

“Yeah,” Myrcella said, rolling her eyes, “I want to fuck you in your room while Arya does her homework two doors down. Are you mad?”

 

“Then your place?”

 

She thought about it. Her father was probably still at work and her mother was likely looking after her grandfather. Tommen would be in class until around nine and Joffrey was probably out drinking again. She was nervous about the risk. Robert and Ned were close friends and there was no doubt in her mind that no one would approve of her doing what she was about to do with Robb. But she couldn't deny that she was desperate and he seemed pretty desperate too.

 

She sighed. “Yeah, my place.”

 

Myrcella noted how Robb’s hand clenched the edge of his seat while she drove. She may have been speeding but, well, this was an urgent matter. When they got to the house she unlocked the door onto the front foyer and threw her coat over a hook before dragging him upstairs. Her room was clean, thank goodness. She glanced at Robb as he turned about the room in wonder.  

 

She shut the door behind them and locked it for safety, feeling his hands on her waist and his lips at the back of her neck while she checked the knob. He pulled her into his arms, licking into her mouth as if there'd been no gap between now and the moment in the car. She dug her nails into his sides, enjoying the sound he made when she did. His grip would leave bruises on her skin and she intended to mark him as well.

 

He exhaled loudly when she kissed his stubbled cheek and along his neck. “Cella take—take off your clothes,” he said, sounding gruff and needy at the same time.

 

It was easy enough to do as she teased his neck. She’d worn a sweater that zipped up the front and nothing underneath but her bra. She’d planned on this, after all. Robb reached impatiently behind her back for the clasp on her bra and she laughed at his confusion.

 

“It opens in the front,” she said, parting their bodies so she could guide his hand between her breasts.

 

He bit his lip hard as his knuckles grazed her skin while he undid the clasp. She’d shivered at the touch and Robb made a noise as he shoved the material over her shoulders and ripped his shirt over his head. They moved back towards the bed together in a tangle of limbs and she climbed onto his lap, pushing his shoulders down and kissing him until she couldn't breathe. Her hands traced his chest admiringly and she smirked at him.

 

“Remember that time you and Theon got caught in the rain on the way home from school during your senior year?”

 

He groaned and she giggled. “And we thought no one was home so we took everything off in the front hall.”

 

“That was a good day,” Myrcella murmured, grazing his nipple with her thumb and feeling him buck against her. She'd walked out of the kitchen licking frosting from her finger and she’d gotten the best view of Robb’s abs. Thirteen-year-old Cella was about as horny as twenty-year-old Cella.

 

He rolled her over onto her back, clutching her chin to kiss her while his other hand rubbed over her jeans. She made a startled noise against him when he pinched her thigh teasingly.

 

“And what about last year?” Robb said, voice muffled as he nipped at her shoulder. “When you used my shower and I—”

 

She smacked his arm. “We swore never to talk about that!”

 

“Alright, alright,” he laughed.

 

They were quiet for a few more minutes, except for the moans he tore from her throat as his hand found its way inside her jeans. Her grip on his hair was tight as they kissed and she felt his other hand squeeze her breast firmly, rolling her nipple back and forth.

 

“I want to lick your cunt,” Robb grunted, his hand already working to rip her jeans off while he mouthed at her collarbone. “Can I?”

 

“Fucking _gods,_ be my guest.”

 

She felt his body shake above her with silent laughter but she didn't care. She'd only ever gotten head once and it'd been better than anything she’d ever imagined. She couldn't even remember who’d done it…maybe Jojen.

 

She cried out loudly at the first prod of his tongue on her folds, feeling half-embarrassed. Robb didn't seem to mind though as he pressed his face between her legs and pulled her thighs over his shoulders. It was different when she could feel his beard along her thighs. It tickled and made her squirm but when she felt it scrape with just the right pressure she moaned loudly. He was good at this—not that she was surprised. He concentrated most of his attention on her clit, flicking it with his tongue and grazing his teeth along the delicate skin. He used his hands on her fleetingly, moving thick fingers inside of her and crooking them _just so_. Myrcella had to force him to stop after only a few minutes of it—she’d come too early if he didn’t and she wanted it to be when they were both ready. When he dipped lower to trace her slit with his tongue, her fingers curled into his hair and he wrapped his arms under her legs, resting one of his hands soothingly on her stomach and teasing the bundle of nerves above his mouth with the other.

 

“Robb, fuck—” she hissed, tugging on his hair to get his attention. His eyes were closed while he worked, making her so wet she thought she’d explode. Jojen—or whoever it’d been—had mostly done it to impress her. They’d been unsure of whether she liked it and had their eyes on her constantly, nervous and self-conscious.

 

When Robb’s blue eyes settled on hers finally she almost came. He looked so good that way—curls an awful mess and his lips wet. She tugged him up towards her mouth, watching him wipe his face with the back of his hand before he kissed her. He pressed their foreheads together for a moment, eyes closed and breathing heavy.

 

“How do you like it?” Robb asked.

 

For a second she didn’t understand what he meant. She’d never been asked before and she’d never much minded any position so she shrugged. “What do you like?”

 

He cleared his throat, cheeks red and eyes averted as he mumbled he’d only done it the one way.

 

“What?”

 

“I was only with Talisa four times and…she was… _not_ like you.”

 

Right. Talisa. Myrcella drew in a breath. “Not like me how?”

 

“I know you’ve _had_ sex.” The way he said it implied he meant to say _I know you’ve had_ a lot of _sex._ He cleared his throat again, more for something to do than anything else. “Talisa hadn’t, and she was a bit nervous about it so we only really did it the one way.”

 

“And you never…but you went to all kinds of parties when you started school—”

 

“Theon couldn’t be trusted not to drink and I was always the designated driver. Drunk people aren’t that hot when you’re sober.”

 

Myrcella laughed and he blushed harder. She cupped his face lightly in her hands, running her thumbs along his skin and watching his eyes close with a smile. She kissed his forehead and nudged him onto his back. He lifted his hips for her while she tugged his jeans down, climbing on top of him like she’d been when they first got to the bed. She loved this. Loved how honest he was with her.

 

“Is this okay? Me on top?” she asked, hovering over him and biting back a moan at the way he looked. She felt her heart beat faster when he nodded and took a shaky breath, watching his hand slip down between them to position himself. She sank down onto him, nails digging into his chest as she did. She felt the sweet burn of her muscles as Robb rested a hand on her thigh, head thrown back as he exhaled sharply.

 

When she moved, his hands were on her so hard she knew there would be bruises all over her thighs. She didn’t give a damn, picking up the pace and knowing it would ache tomorrow. She hadn’t done this in months and being on top made her legs burn but the way Robb looked at her—like he’d never seen anything like her before—made it all worthwhile. _How has this idiot not been fucking people left and right?_ she thought as her eyes fluttered from the feeling of fullness. She couldn’t remember being this full.

 

Myrcella gripped his hands and drew them up to her breasts, remembering how he’d touched her nipples earlier and greedy for more of his care. He delivered, as she knew he would, making her pant and moan as she moved ever faster. She kept her balance with one hand on his chest while the other rubbed circles around her clit. Robb noticed but didn’t comment, pinching her nipple and soothing it with his rough fingers. He was tentative when he moved his hips against her for the first time, looking at her nervously when her rhythm faltered and her eyes flew open. She needed a second to catch her breath before she bent at the waist to kiss him and order him to do it again. He smirked, tweaking her nipple and knocking her hand away from her clit to replace it with his own. He met her thrusts easily. He was built too strong for it to be a challenge when Myrcella was as light as she was. Her hands moved everywhere, along his arms and in his hair as he fucked into her hard and groaned against her lips.

 

“Robb, shit, harder,” Myrcella moaned, so close she thought she’d die upon release. She could barely understand how Robb was holding on until he dug his nails into her side so hard she didn’t have to understand.

 

“Fuck, _Cella,_ ” he groaned, hips jerking erratically as he came. The way he shook beneath her only served to quicken his pace and she came apart with a drawn-out shriek.

 

They both breathed hard as Myrcella collapsed on top of him, still feeling his thickness inside of her even as it softened.

 

“My God,” Robb mumbled, breathing hard.

 

“Yeah, and you called me this morning asking if I wanted to _take it slow.”_ She murmured, burying her face in his neck.

 

“I was being considerate!”

 

“You were being paranoid.” She corrected.

 

She felt his laugh rumble through his chest and she liked it, snuggling closer to him and smiling when he groaned at his cock’s stirring. His hands cupped her shoulder blades and smoothed down her back, cupping her arse gently and helping her off him. She whined at the loss of contact but once he’d gotten his underwear back on he was pulling her close again.

 

“You know,” Myrcella said, tracing a finger around his nipple lightly, “what I don’t understand is how Talisa ever broke up with you in the first place. If you fucked me like that from the bottom I can’t imagine what you’d be like all over me.”

 

Robb blushed. “Well she broke up with me because she was four days late and she thought I’d, er, gotten her pregnant. She accused me of lying to her about condoms and then when she bled the next day she felt like a fool.” He snorted. “She apologized to me about it but I don’t like when people don’t trust me.”

 

“Hmm.” Myrcella turned her face up to look at him. “Well I trust you.”

 

“Is that true or do you just want to see what it’s like when I’m _all over you?”_

They laughed together and she kissed his neck, then his jaw, and then his lips. “I’ve never in my life lost faith in a Stark. I don’t plan on it with you.”

 

He shook his head at her, smiling like an idiot and playing with her hair.

 

“I don’t often trust you Baratheons if I’m honest.” Robb smirked, “But I’ll make an exception for you.”

 

“Funny,” she said, pinching him as she heard her phone vibrate on her dresser. She rolled over and picked it up, turning to Robb and nodding towards his clothes on the floor. “Your mom invited me for dinner. She said you could pick me up from the library.”

 

Robb smirked, pulling his shirt over his head as he watched her slip her breasts into the cups of her bra. “Maybe it’s better if you pick _me_ up from the library in _your_ car.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, my car would have been more than fine if you weren’t so fucking huge,” she snapped, shooting him a look when she bent to pick up her jeans and he patted her arse lightly.

 

“Just get dressed, Cella.”

 

So, she did and they went to dinner.

 

(And maybe Arya commented on Myrcella having sex-hair but she didn’t _know_ anything.)


End file.
